Sunday, 19 December 2010

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Let's face it, English does not always make sense.
There is no egg in the eggplant nor ham in a hamburger.
And neither pine nor apple is in a pineapple.
English muffins were not invented in England.
And French fries were not invented in France.

We sometimes take English for granted.
But if we examine its paradoxes
we find that Quicksand takes you down slowly,
Boxing rings are square,
And a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

If writers write, how come fingers don't fing?
If the plural of tooth is teeth,
Shouldn't the plural of phone booth be phone beeth?
If the teacher taught, Why didn't the preacher praught?

If a vegetarian eats vegetables,
What the heck does a humanitarian eat?
Why do people recite at a play, yet play at a recital?
Park on driveways and Drive on parkways?
How can the weather be as hot as hell on one day And as cold as hell on another?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language
where a house can burn up as It burns down
And in which you fill in a form, By filling it out
We have noses that run and feet that smell
And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same,
While a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

English was invented by people, not computers.
And it reflects the creativity of the human race.
(Which of course isn't a race at all)

That is why, When the stars are out, they are visible
But when the lights are out, they are invisible
And it's why when I wind up my watch, It starts.
But when I wind up this poem, It ends.﻿